


Ewan and David, 13th July 1904

by helens78, kyuuketsukirui



Series: Sable Knot (Ewan) [3]
Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Don't Have to Know Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-14
Updated: 2004-07-14
Packaged: 2017-10-06 04:51:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyuuketsukirui/pseuds/kyuuketsukirui





	Ewan and David, 13th July 1904

David sighs as he maneuvers around carriages and pedestrians in his motorcar, nodding and smiling as he wonders just how people expect to manage in a city full of the things if they can't be bothered to stay out of the way when they're running. _I shouldn't have even bothered to bring it into town,_ he thinks, shaking his head. Next time he'll know better.

Still, he manages to find a place to leave it as he heads to the bookseller's. There's likely nothing on the shelves he'll want, but there's no telling what he'll run across, and a book is a good and very cheap bribe. Amazing what some slaves will do for a book.

A stack of books clutched to his chest, Ewan makes his way out of the shop. He hasn't gone more than twenty feet before he's wishing he'd asked to have them delivered. They have a boy for that sort of thing, after all. He stops dead in his tracks, chewing his lip as he stares down at the books in his hands. Perhaps he should go back and see about delivery.

David nearly runs into Ewan on his way into the shop. Stopped dead in the middle of the road. _Another one,_ he thinks, sighing, wondering how long one has to be a driver in order to become disdainful of all pedestrians. "Excuse me, you--" He blinks, taking a second look at Ewan. "Well, hello there," he says, slow smile spreading over his features. "Young Mr. Neeson, isn't it?"

Ewan looks up, startled. "Oh!" Recognising the man in front of him as one his father's acquaintances - _Wenham, isn't it?_ \- he grins broadly, shifting the stack of books in his arms. "Hullo."

"Having some trouble, Neeson?" David asks. "Let me take a few of those for you. Is your driver nearby?"

"Oh, no." Ewan's grin turns rueful. "That's the problem, actually. I walked, you see, and I only just now realised I ought to have these delivered...or these four, at the least," he says, indicating the ones on the bottom, "and keep this one to read on the walk home. Do you like Sherlock Holmes?"

"I do," David smiles, "but somehow I always end up hoping the villain will make a clean getaway. And speaking of getaways, if you'd care for a ride home -- I don't have a driver today because I'm testing out a friend's motorcar. It's a bit bumpy," he says, nodding behind him to the blocky vehicle, "but no more so than juggling all those books on your feet."

"Oh, _would_ you?" Looking around Wenham, Ewan peers up the street, spotting the motorcar immediately. He can't quite make out the colour from here, but it looks reddish. "Or...you were on your way somewhere, weren't you? Shall I wait by the motorcar? I don't mind." He hefts the books. "I do have these to read, after all."

"I was on my way to the bookseller's myself," David says. "But it won't take me long. If you don't mind waiting...and feel free to look it over. When I'm back I'll show you what everything does."

"All right," Ewan says, and already he's heading for the car, not quite running, but walking very fast. Setting his books down on the seat, he lets out a low whistle of appreciation. It's beautiful, even as dusty as it is from the road. He rubs a spot clean with his jacket sleeve. It is red - burgundy or maroon or one of those - perfect for a man as dashing as Wenham. Leaning in, he examines the steering wheel, the seats - it even has a back seat! - and everything else that looks interesting.

David heads into the bookseller's, but now he's on a timetable. He doesn't want to leave young Neeson alone for too long, not when he could be out there chatting the boy up and finding out what other interests he has, besides books and motorcars.

He comes away with a pair of copies of the newest Jules Verne and then heads straight for Ewan and the car, clapping a hand on Ewan's shoulder. "Splendid, isn't she?" he asks. Really, he's not half as enthusiastic about the thing as all that, but if Ewan is, why not lean on it a bit? "Shall I drive you home?"

"If you're certain you don't mind." Straightening up, Ewan turns around, beaming. "It's absolutely..." he trails off, noticing for the first time how handsome Wenham is, and his hand on Ewan's shoulder seems suddenly warmer than it should. "Absolutely ripping, isn't it?"

David squeezes Ewan's shoulder and lets his fingertips linger for a moment. "You have no idea." He grins. He gestures toward the front of the car. "Do you know how to work a hand crankshaft?"

"Of course." _It's not a lie; reading counts. Anyway, it can't be all that difficult._ Ewan walks around to the front, glancing down at the crank and then back at Wenham. Reaching out, he says eagerly, "Shall I?"

"By all means," David grins. "I'm sure you have very steady hands." He heads back around and gets into the car, double checking the emergency brake and shifter, making sure to set the levers and gears and then nodding over to Ewan. "Ready."

It's harder to turn the crank than Ewan expected, though once it gets going it's not so bad. Still, he's broken a sweat by the time he's done. Hopping onto the seat next to Wenham, he grins broadly. "I've never seen one of these Mercedes models up close," he says somewhat breathlessly. He doesn't mention that the only one he has seen was in a photograph. "Just ripping. How long've you had it?"

"Only a few weeks -- take a look, there, the clutch -- gearshift --and here we go..." David looks around carefully before pulling out into the street and starting off. "Right, then. Only a few weeks, I'm--" _Hmm. The boy certainly seems impressed with it; maybe now's not the time to remind him I don't actually own the thing..._ "--still making up my mind how much I like it," he yells. Good heavens, but these things kick up a racket.

"Oh, but it's wonderful!" Ewan shouts. It's too bad they're in the middle of town, at the mercy of slow moving carriages and bicycles. Perhaps he can convince Wenham to come round later in the week and take him out for a proper ride. Ewan wouldn't mind spending more time with him at all, and it's not as if he has any other plans at the moment.

He calls out directions over the noise of the engine and it's not long before they're rolling up in front of the house. Scrambling to his knees, he leans over the seat to grab his books from the back.

"Think you can handle the armload now?" David asks, turning and grinning at the view Ewan's presented him with. _Lad, you're wearing a sign on your arse that says "bugger me", do you realize that?_

"Oh yes." Twisting back around, Ewan grins. "Thanks for the ride, though." He's loathe to get out of the motorcar just yet. If only he hadn't cut his lectures so often, he might have one of his own now. "I was wondering..." He bites his lip, unsure how to frame his request. "I mean...I don't suppose you're planning a proper drive out in the country any time soon, are you?"

"Oh, I make it a habit to go out every weekend," David says. _Or I will if it'll give me an excuse to take you out in the country alone._ "If you might have an afternoon free -- perhaps you'd like a driving lesson?"

"I'd love it!" Ewan tries to calm down, but he's bouncing a little as he gets out of the car. "That would be perfect, just ripping. Friday? I haven't any plans, though," - _and I'd cancel them if I did_ \- "so any afternoon would be fine, really."

"Friday's fine," David says, grinning. Such enthusiasm -- David wonders how far that enthusiasm goes. And if it'll translate to the supposed owner of the car and not just the car itself. "I'll come by around two, if that suits you."

"Yes, grand." Ewan grins back. "I'm sure I shan't be able to sleep Thursday night," he says, and then wishes he hadn't. It sounds so childish. "Anyway...thank you again..."

_And if your father wouldn't kill me, I'd make sure you didn't spend Friday night sleeping, either._ David nods. "You're more than welcome, Neeson. I'll be looking forward to it."

"Goodbye, then," Ewan says, sparing one last look at the car - and at Wenham, too, if he's honest with himself - before heading into the house. Friday can't come soon enough.


End file.
